


Deconstruction

by Kalidoscope666



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Universe, Cyber Bullying, Dissociation, Gen, Hints of suicide idealization, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Panic Attacks, Sexual Assault, but - Freeform, hinted eating disorder, overall lots of angst, very brief but it's there, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalidoscope666/pseuds/Kalidoscope666
Summary: He's gotten everything he dreamed for, and everything he dreaded at the same time.Hanbin's drowning.
Relationships: Kim Hanbin | B.I/Kim Jiwon | Bobby, if you squint really hard
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	Deconstruction

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the warnings, there will be metions of potentially triggering things every now and then. This might not be the work for you. 
> 
> I haven't written anything in a while, and english isn't my first language, so please forgive me the overly convoluted sentence and grammar mistakes :)
> 
> I thrive on comments, so don't hesitate to leave one if you liked this!

Their debut isn’t perfect, but it’s the only thing Hanbin had hoped for in years. Years of blowing candles and watching shooting star with the same words lost on his tongue. Of empty promises to the ones he was supposed the leading but more often ended up inspiring him than the other way around.

  


All of the boys are standing behind him, and he can see Yunhyeong’s ridiculous hair on his right if he squints hard enough. It’s scary, standing in front of an audience. The thought of it is, regardless of the cheering and light stick. Sometimes he wonders if one of them wrote the angry comment he sees popping up when checking his performance as he crosses eyes with someone in the crowd. Every time he feels himself being crushed by this weight, he’s reminded of the six other boys standing behind him.

  


They’re no strangers to crowds, despite their barely debuted rookie status. They already know how to best support each other when it comes down to it.

  


They have the chance of having an impressive fandom for a newly debuted group. That was probably the only good thing that ever came out of those god awful nerve wrenching survival show, besides Chanwoo. Of course. He’s heard the words ‘big three privilege’ being thrown around in the backstage of quite a few show already.

  


Maybe it is.

  


He doesn’t feel all that privileged now, when they’re ushered on stage and the first thing he sees are cold and harsh glares, in the middle of enthusiastic fans.

  


Jinhwan’s hand rests on the small of his back for a few seconds, unfreezing him from where he stood.

  


They do well. Well enough, he thinks.

  


The choreography and the lyrics have been rehearsed so much he probably did them at some during his sleep, so he manages to do deliver his part despite him blanking out. He does a better job at handling his stress now than he did before. Sometimes, he’s embarrassed about the lacking performance of him that are up online. Sometimes, he doesn’t find it in him to be angry at himself for learning.

Jinhwan asks him if he’s okay as they step down the stage. He nods, throat dry, and panting slightly. Hanbin asks if he seemed off, and his oldest hyung hesitates a second before telling him no.

  


He’s a bit disappointed but what else is new. He’s better at his other roles. He’s more confident in his writing abilities than he is in his rapping. Sometimes. Trying to be on top of everything in everything is a daunting tasks, but Hanbin knowns he has to.

  


He’ll do better next time. He has to. He knows, he knows.

  


How is he supposed to lead them otherwise?

  


  


  


  


  


  


Their debut is met with mixed reviews. On the one hand, it breaks records. It sells well enough. On the other, there is a wave of dislike targeting them. Saying Bobby and B.I. take all the spotlight, leaving nothing for the others. That their song is really not that good, and that their fans should stop trying to shove it down other people’s throats.   


Well, that’s what the critics start with. Then, everything’s game. Visuals, performance, behavior, past, all is fair in war and love, after all.

  


Most of the members handle their new source of criticism well (like they didn’t get enough from the CEO, from the choreographers, from the vocal coach, from the make-up noonas). Well, most of them don’t get that much hate anyway. Chanwoo is sometimes targeted by people who pretend to be fans, but really only liked the six original members. Bobby is most often attacked for his appearance, unconventional attractiveness and his diss against idol rappers during Show me the money 3. Hanbin gets what he meant, most of their fans knew what he meant when he dissed them, yet it’s still used to pit him against some of their colleagues. A good idol rapper may not be a good rapper, a good idol rapper may not be a good idol. Does it really matter, in the end?

  


As long as some people are moved by what they put out for the world to see…

  


It kills Hanbin when the older rapper gets insecure about his looks. Most of the time, he brushes off the comments with his seemingly unbreakable confidence. Sometimes, though, he can see the cracks, the way the older picks a face mask and a cap almost every day.

  


It appears that out of all the members, it’s himself that gets the cake of being most disliked. He’s arrogant, cold, too hard on the others. He only got in YGE because he came from money. He’s childish. Not attractive enough, not a good rapper enough, not compared to Bobby (not compared to anyone). At this point, he doesn’t know what to believe. Is what he sees in the mirror more accurate than what fans and other netizens see?

  


All he sees nowadays is that his eyes look awfully dull.

  


Their boss don’t seem to mind the backlash so much, since they’re doing well in terms of sales. It leaves an ashy taste in his mouth, but he nods with a smile when they’re told they will perform in Japan.

  


Maybe he’s not the best leader. Maybe he’s not the best person. But he’ll try to be good enough for them.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Before they go, they have a medical check-up. They get drug test every month, and overall check-up every six months. It feels a bit invasive. Well, it is a bit invasive, and Hanbin always feel very exposed in the hospital gown.

  


He knows that they pretend it’s for their own good, but he just feel infantilized. Like he’s not capable of taking care of himself well enough. If their company really cared about their well-being, they’d start somewhere else.

  


They start with measuring their height and weight, which is dutifully noted down in their manager’s note book. He can already tell some of them will have to diet from the look in her eyes as Chanwoo and Junhoe get on the scale.

  


It feels unfair. It is undair. They’re tall. Taller than the rest of them, it is obvious that they are going to weigh more. The two of them are 65 kilos, which right in the healthy range for their gender and height. To top it all, they are young, hormones still raging. Of course their weight fluctuates.

  


Bobby comes in after, at 62. She doesn’t write anything, and he knows it’s because the older rapper works out very often, so the weight comes from muscles.

  


Yunhyeong doesn’t work out nearly as much, but he never eats that much anyway. The manager nods at him after the number 57 flashes from the machine.

  


Jinhwan seems a bit embarrassed at his height (Hanbin thinks it’s unbearably cute, but he’ll never tell the other), but the 54 that follows earns him a frown from the manager. It angers him that they are trying to force the cute image on him just because of his height, and that they’ll get him on a diet to also be tiny. His hyung may be small, but really, that was the only cute thing about him.

  


Donghyuk seems a bit self-conscious as he goes on. The 57 Hanbin sees is nothing to be ashamed off, he thinks, but he knows for a fact that the younger dancer had weighed around 62 until last month.

  


He doesn’t know what’s going on yet. But he knows the other, his tendency to lose weight and work too hard when he’s stressed. He adds ‘taking care of Donghyuk’ to his mental list of things to do, and only spares a moment to blame himself for not doing it earlier.

  


He steps on last. He lost a little weight, putting him at a 55. He’d always been on the skinny side, either very active or working too hard to care about eating that much.

  


The nurse slaps the back of his head, and tells him he needs to gain weight.

  


He adds ‘working out’ to his to do things. If he ever finds the time, that is.

  


  


  


  


  


  


That night, Yunhyeong makes a point of feeding both Donghyuk and him. Hanbin agrees, more for the other’s sake than for his own. It eases the weight on his shoulder to know that the others are looking out for each other. Sometimes, the band feels so close that they forget they are each other’s support system. It’s contradictory, and it fits them, but not in the ways that matter. They’re too used to goof off together, and it makes it hard to talk sometimes. Really talk.

  


Like now, Yunhyeong’s eyes light up as Donghyuk finishes his plate, but they don’t talk about it.

  


It feels like he’s accommodating them. In a way, he is, but he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He’d talk if he knew what to say. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with him.

  


He doesn’t.

  


They don’t talk.

  


  


  


  


  


  


They’re in the plane to Japan, and despite it being in the middle of the night, Hanbin can’t sleep. He’s not sure if it’s because of the girl who’s barely hiding her camera on the seat next to him, her eyes brimming with something that just feels wrong, or if it’s because of the worry that has settled in his bones.

  


Donghyuk is still skipping meals, every now and then, and gets defensive when asked about it. Hanbin is no specialist in anything, really, but even he can tell it’s bad news. He doesn’t get it, not when the younger dancer is someone so beautiful inside out. He’s weary, but he still doesn’t know how to not accommodate him. Maybe he’s losing weight the healthy way. Maybe he’s not. Hanbin’s kind of at a loss, and ready to leave this to his hyungs. He’s never been the best with emotions and things (out of all of them, Donghyuk was). Bobby’s been really helpful in that aspect, sticking by the dancer’s side.

  


He can’t help but notice that the group has paired up. Jinhwan and Junhoe, the unexpected yet unavoidable duo, Chanwoo and Yunhyeon, long lost twins who just so happened to have different birthdays.

  


And, well. Him. He didn’t feel alone, or left out, and he knew that they all cared about each equally even if they weren’t all as close, but it just forced him into his role of leader when he wouldn’t have to, feeling the need to watch over them goof off instead of playing with them.

  


The flash of the camera barely takes him by surprise. He’s almost went blind with all the flashes at times already. It’s the nerve of the girl that really does. He turns to look at her in the eyes, and she smiles sweetly. He grabs his headphones as she looks like she’d want to start a conversation.

  


Will they do well in Japan? Will they really fill up stadiums as rookies? Will they be good enough? Will he?

  


He had sincerely hoped to be able to release more content before taking on tasks like that. The Japanese market was known to allergic to foreigners, and many (talented, acclaimed, better) idols had failed. It was in times like these he realized he’d sold his soul for the devil in order to pursue his dreams, and he’d have to work for him before actually making. Between making money and making music, there was quite the bridge.

  


Well, he thought, we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.

  


A hand on his knee shakes him out of his thoughts violently enough for him to spill a bit of the glass of water the attendants had distributed earlier.

  


The girl put her napkin in his lap, looking overjoyed at the possibility. Her nails sinks into his knee as he tries to jerk out of her hold, the hand on his thigh way too close for comfort. It goes up, sticks around for too long to be an accident. It slips under his sweatshirt, touching his stomach.

  


He doesn’t say or do anything. He doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because he knows better than to make a scene (he should, though, he should), or just because there’s a strong feeling of humiliation creeping up his bones. He’s not comfortable, the plane feels too warm, and he’s trapped. Between the girl and his manager, dead asleep. By the contract that he’d signed when he was a kid. In his own body. His breath is coming fast, and his brain feels foggy, but he feels nothing but an eerie panic, like he’ll just stop working randomly and be discarded like a broken toy.

  


When he comes to his sense, the plane is landing, and her hand is still on him. He takes off as soon as he possibly can, probably pushing his way through quite rudely, but he can’t help it. He’s exhausted, and he has to get out.

  


He grabs Yunhyeong’s hand as they make their way through the check out, the older supporting him through the crowd.

  


They get into the car. He looks by the window, and sees her.

  


He still feels trapped.

  


  


  


  


  


  


They’re celebrating the end of their tour in a restaurant. The weather is cold, but Hanbin feels warm enough to take out his jacket.

  


In the end, they did well enough. Hanbin’s surprised, and is actually not so surprised at the same time. He didn’t think that this would go so well, but the survival show they had hardly survived had done a good job of promoting them. Jinhwan’s impressive master of Japanese was really an asset, and sure enough, their hyung was very popular seemingly everywhere they appeared in Japan.

  


They had to do a lot of things on their own, some managers really helpful and others really strict, but they made it work. From rusty microphones, to sleeping in less than appropriate areas, they made it work. Sure, it sounded like they had been abandoned by YGE, shipped off to produce a miracle out of nowhere, but it somehow felt like their success belonged to them more.

  


He wrote the songs, he produced them (for the most part), he came up with some choreographies alongside Donghyuk, and they performed and entertained the crowd. YGE had very little to do with it, and Hanbin couldn’t help but think that it was maybe why their CEO disliked them.

  


He favored them, but disliked them the most.

  


Honestly, the CEO looked like he sort off disliked everyone. Well, except for himself. Most of trainees and artists were scared of him, but Hanbin’s genuine dislike of the man topped his fear.

  


He sees the manager (the woman had worked with 2NE1 in the past) slightly tap Chanwoo’s hand when he goes for second. A mix of surprise, anger and shame distort his face.

  


Hanbin almost feels angry enough to talk back at her, despite knowing how badly it could only end. She’s not their stricter manager, but she’s also the only one who is really not close with any of them whatsoever. She gets along better with the make-up noonas. Or so he thinks, but that’s the only moments he saw her really smile. Her harsh persona makes it hard to interact with her, and he knows that if he were to directly tell her off, she’d be on his back until the end of times, finding tiny yet incredibly annoying ways to get back at him.

  


He settles for making a show of feeding the maknae, pretending not to see her sharp look. It is worth it. He can’t stand to see the maknae feeling bad. It just… Isn’t a way the younger should ever feel. Or at least, that was the way he thought about it.

  


Hanbin sometimes felt bad for the way he treated him on mix and match, although it had all been blown out of proportion for extra drama by YG editors. He stayed late to help the other practice dancing, tried to give him advice for his singing, but he was overall not the most welcoming member, despite them all being in the same boat.

  


He wasn’t very good with new people, which wasn’t due to being shy so much as it was due to not knowing how to interact with them. At that time, he had been so young, and hadn’t known just how much leading was a work of give and take. He was glad it had been Chanwoo that joined them in the end.

  


He wonders how the less flashy members felt about their popularity. It wasn’t that obvious, but there was no denying that they got less gifts during fansigns, or that the crowd screamed just a little less loud for them than they did for the others.

  


He wondered if it was his fault. Or Bobby’s, since they seemed to be the ones the fans accused of stealing the spotlight. They both tried to leave as much place as possible during broadcast and interviews, and did a fairly good job of that. It just seemed like Show me the money 3 had made Bobby more famous overall, and Hanbin had been given his fair share of highlight during both Win and Mix and match.

  


Donghyuk’s bony hand reaches across the table.

  


Had Japan really been a success?

  


  


  


  


  


  


Their last fansign in takes place in Tokyo. They barely have the time to visit the city after it before taking off, finally going back to Korea, but Hanbin found it was an equally rewarding activity. Their most awkward members sometimes find it more difficult, but it is really worth it. It might sound impossible to connect with someone in the little time they were granted together, but somehow, it worked. You don’t need to know a person to care about them, after all. Hanbin always felt invincible after fansigns. Like he was able to take on the world (and maybe YG) if he had so many great person standing beside him.

  


Of course, they occasionally got fans that were overbearing. Gripping hands too strongly. Giving gifts that weren’t quite gifts (thank god for the managers, he’d hear some stories from Winner about what could be found in those gifts sometimes). Some that strongly gave off a solo stan, or not ot7 vibe.

  


It was fine. It was the exception that confirmed the rule.

  


Having the girl from the airplane back in front of him?

  


It really wasn’t.

  


It took everything he had in him to treat her normally. His hands were shaking in his lap, from anger, fear, and tension. He looked in front of him, in the sea of fans, and wondered how many of them were like her.

  


This vaguely sick feeling distrust kept him company throughout the fansign, and he cursed her for making him feel this way about something he used to like so much.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Hanbin gets his very first death threats a few weeks after they get back.

  


He doesn’t know what got into him. And he doesn’t want to make excuses for himself. How could he do that? How could he just… Slap the maknae? Twice? On a fucking live?

  


Chanwoo’s dejected look, Bobby’s awkward and surprised laughter… Sure, they could play around, but that had gone too far and it hadn’t been playing around at all.

  


If he was honest with himself, Chanwoo had just been an easy outlet for the raging anger he felt. So he hit him.

  


God, he didn’t know if the fans that defended him were better or worse than the ones who wanted him dead. He’d side with the latter for now.

  


He hadn’t even realized, grasped the full weight of what he’d done, until Chanwoo tensed under his arm at the end of the live. The way he refused to meet his eyes.

  


He hadn’t fully understood when everyone refused to speak to him until he apologized. Hell, even the two slaps his manager had given him were barely enough to really get it. And it wasn’t the same. It was fine that the manager hit him, he’d done wrong. But Chanwoo hadn’t done anything. And even if he did, it wouldn’t have warranted hitting him.

  


He spent a whole day and a whole night reading comments about the incident, then went home, showered, and apologized to Chanwoo on his knees. The younger one had accepted the apology immediately.

  


But he stayed weary. He didn’t mess with Hanbin like before. Hell, he was even more subdued with the other hyungs.

  


It felt like he broke something as he hit Chanwoo. Donghyuk and Jinhwan still wouldn’t talk to him, and Hanbin was starting to think it was better than the looks the others gave him. He couldn’t stand that the way they saw him changed like that. Like he was a ticking bomb.

  


He apologizes again to the rest of the group. They acceptance feels emptier than the apology itself.

  


He grabs his jacket and walked with no directions, only to find himself on the bridge.

  


He doesn’t think much, isn’t lost in his thought. He just stares ahead in the night for hours on end.

  


When he comes back to the apartment and realized that they haven’t looked for him, he feels something break a little more.

  


Huh. 

Maybe it had been himself he shattered when he slapped Chanwoo.

  


  


  


  


  


  


The backlash of the ‘bullying incident’ was slowly dying off. The members were all talking to him again, and they seemed to forget it happened most of the times. He never raised his hand again, even as a joke, and Chanwoo had started making fun of him again, which he had never thought he might miss.

  


He’d written a lot of songs when the others were mad at him. Angst was a good inspiration fuel, apparently.

  


They had all been rejected by the company. Apparently it wasn’t their vibe.

  


He had thought things would get easier after debut. No longer in competition with other trainees, no longer in danger of losing his friends, being able to make music, no longer being harshly scolded by the managers…

  


But it was still on going. He was lost.

  


Hanbin had the chance of living his dreams. Why couldn’t he enjoy it?

  


He’s reading fan letters to relax after the dreadful meeting when it happens.

  


As he opens the letter, a liquid comes out of it (he’d later find out it was bleach) and spills all over, coating his hands. He thinks at first that the fan must have included a drink that burst during delivery, considering the torn open recipient that comes out of the letter after he shakes, but the burning feeling on his hands tell him otherwise.

  


He jumps on his feet to go wash his hands, the itch under his skin becoming more unbearable at the second. He spends a good twenty hunched over the lavabo, skin red and patchy like parchment, but otherwise sound.

  


He feels exhausted, even if he only woke up two hours ago, and he can feel traitorous tears at the corner of his eyes. Somehow, they don’t feel like tears of pain or sadness.

  


There’s energy thrumming under his skin, his heart is beating too fast. He doesn’t know how to stop it, but his head feels cleaner as he clenches his fists painfully.

  


It’s a momentary reprieve, and he should know better, he should, but he picks the razor they keep in in the bathroom for emergency shaving (Yunyheong).

  


He takes it apart, hands shaking so bad he already cuts himself on accident, grabs one of the blade.

  


It doesn’t feel good. It hurts, it’s painful, it’s bleeding, and there’s an awful feeling of shame that clings to him.

  


So he does it again.

  


Because this way, his heart isn’t beating its way out of his ribcage, his hands aren’t shaking, and his head is clearer.

  


Hanbin tells himself he’s never going to do it again. He puts the blade in his pocket.

  


He cleans the mess the best he can, and goes back to the dorm, hands tucked in his sweater.

  


Entering the dorm, he hears laughter and loud voices. Hanbin stands in front of the kitchen door, seeing through the ajar door the rest of the band enjoying a meal together.

  


They seem so happy together, and he wonder how long it’s been since he was with them in a good moment like that.

  


His throat feels constricted, and his hand levitates above the handle.

  


He turns back.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Sometimes he wonders what it was about him that generated so much hate from fans and netizens. Other times he knew.

  


He feels so drained. Out of life, ambition, motivation. Like a broken engine still going on but the smallest mechanism breaking apart would tear it to pieces.

  


His hands pull nervously at his sleeves, trying to hide the torn skin underneath. It had been a week since the bleach incident, and he’d manage to hide the state of his hands for the three days it took them to heal. The cuts on his left wrist, however, looked much deeper, and he honestly cursed himself to ever think it was a good idea.

  


He’s acutely aware of it every time he does something, and it’s becoming a second nature to keep his the sleeve past his knuckle with his pinkie.

  


He’s also acutely aware of the weird distance that’s been created between him and the rest of the members. He hadn’t realized just how much he had isolated himself until he said good morning to Junhoe and the other seemed almost shell shocked at his presence at the dorm during his unofficial writing hours.

  


It hurt. Or rather, it genuinely did not feel good. Feeling like he was intruding on things he should naturally have been part of. Bobby telling him off for touching him. Saying he felt bad whenever he did, and so obviously meaning, shaming him for all the world to see.

  


At this point, Hanbin didn’t know if he should pull further away from them, or if he should try and build back his relationship with the band.

  


What else was there to do? He’d be alone if they left him. There was his family, but his relationship with his father was at best strained, and he hadn’t seen his mom or Hanbyul in such a long time. He was friend with some of the employees and trainees at YG, but it was more of a friendly colleague type of situation.

  


In the meantime, there he was. Sitting on the couch, awkwardly, trying to bolt out of the room every time someone sent him an incredulous look.

  


“Why is everyone acting so wei- oh.” Bobby lifted his head, meeting Hanbin’s eyes.

  


He was already closing his room’s door and locking it when he heard Bobby call out his name. He didn’t answer, letting his tears fall only now.

  


“Hanbin-ah? I didn’t mean it that way?” Bobby knocked, “Can you open the door?”

  


He couldn’t hold back the sob that had been building in his chest for what felt like years now. Maybe it was foolish to lose it over something as trivial (or not) as this, but it was just so damn hard to be punched in the face with all that he lost.

  


“Fuck, are you crying?”

  


His breath was shallow, and he could feel the panic burst under his skin. He couldn’t breathe.

  


“What’s going on?”

  


“I don’t know, hyung, he was the living room, and I was accidentally a dick and now…”

  


He has to be dying. Why would he be feeling like this if he wasn’t? His heart racing so fast he can feel it in fingertips, almost painfully so, the godawful fear that felt like a second skin of molten steel.

  


“Bin-ah? Can you open the door for Hyung?”

  


His hand shake as he unlocks it, still curled up in the corner. Yunhyeong opens it a bit too violently, hitting his knee. Hanbin barely has the time to see Bobby’s worried face before he’s wrapped into a hug.

  


He's still dying.

  


  


  


  


  


They don’t talk about things, but he can see it. The way they’re all so much more careful with him, not engaging in their usual pretend fighting, feeding him half of their meal, trying to ease his burden of leader.

  


He hates it, and wants to scream at them.

  


He doesn’t even know why.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Things don’t stay this way forever, of course. He’s careful not to let himself break down in front of them another time, his new way of letting tension out just as draining but less obvious. It takes a while, but they all go back to normal. Hanbin makes a point of involving himself in group activites as best as he can with his packed schedule and the high expectations everyone has of him.

  


It’s tough, but he feels a little less lost than in the past. He’s still trapped, but he knows where to stand. The hate towards them hasn’t completely died out, but he and the other members haven’t lit yet another fire under their feet in months now, so the criticism remains tame.

  


They can finally breathe. Not really a rookie group anymore, not seniors either, with a fairly loyal fan base.

  


He wouldn’t say he’s happy, but he can breathe easier.

  


The others can feel it, too. They go out more often, growing their friendship group out of Ikon (even if they still can’t say hello to Blackpink), go out for drinks instead of practicing until everything hurts and they can’t stand up.

  


They still work hard, but it feels less like a necessity and more like an actual job.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Their success with their most recent comeback is unexpected. It blows up like nothing they ever put out did, especially in South Korea. They tell him it has become a children’s anthem, and he appreciates it even if it was not quite the intended purpose of the song.

  


He gets a lot of credit as a songwriter and producer now. He’s happy his work is finally recognized, but he can’t shake off the fear of being in the public eye.

  


Of course, with public attention comes the negative comments. Some people don’t like the song, sometimes because it’s from them (from him) and sometimes because it’s not their thing, and well, Hanbin’s more than happy to let them have their opinion.

  


It feels good, to be recognized. They’re getting more love, more support.

  


But with that success, comes the overwhelming pressure of putting out something else. Something better. That would blow people’s mind more than they previously did.

  


He thinks it’s unfair. If you give everything you’ve got to do something you love, how are you supposed to top that?

  


He spends hours on end glaring at a blank page, empty screen, his brain brimming with ideas that never translate into words. The tension builds up.

  


But he doesn’t break.

  


  


  


  


  


  


The way it all comes crashing down is fairly anti climatic, all things considered. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and a cold feeling in his chest, but his hands stop shaking.

  


Jinhwan enters the living room, paler than Hanbin’s ever seen him as he takes in the picture they make, all eating take out in front of the tv.

  


In his hand, there’s a blood soaked towel and a razor blade that Hanbin recognizes directly as his own. Their hyung opens his mouth as if to say something, seems to think better of it. Opens it again.

  


“What is this?”

  


Donghyuk and Yunhyeong, on the left of the room, only now understand what’s going on. Donghyuk looks like he might cry. Jinhwan already is.

  


His voice is shaky but firm as he asks them all to either come clean about this, or to strip.

  


Hanbin knows that there’s no way everyone won’t know what he did. There is nothing he can do to hide it. The feeling of being trapped comes back with a vengeance. He stands up, and tries to leave the room.

  


Junhoe catches him by the arm, he winces, and Donghyuk starts to cry for real.

  


Jinhwan gets close enough to lift his sleeve, and Bobby leaves the room as they take in the sight of his mutilated wrist. The cuts aren’t too deep, but they’re too ordered to be anything else than what they are.

  


He faintly hears the sound of Bobby throwing up through the wall that separates them from the toilet. Chanwoo seems frozen into place, Yunhyeong looks at him like he’s never met him before.

  


Hanbin just wonders why he can’t seem to stop fucking up everything.

  


  


  


  


  


  


After the debacle of the living room, Hanbin’s been barricading his room’s door. He knows they want to talk about (about a lot of other things, apparently). He doesn’t.

  


What does he have to say?

  


That can’t take the pressure on his shoulder without taking it out on himself?

  


That leading them in this fucking ruthless industry has taken so much from him he doesn’t know who he is?

  


Jinhwan and Yunhyeong come knocking every now and then. He can tell they’re worried he is going to hurt himself (again).

  


He won’t. He doesn’t feel overwhelmed with the pressure, he just feels empty. Like a vase whose pretty flowers are no longer pretty enough for its owner, and has been drained out of like to be left in a shelf to be filled by dust instead.

  


In the end, it’s Chanwoo who gets him out. He sits, back against the door, and just talks. He’s reminding him about some the stories they’ve all lived together, some before debut and some after. He even gets a laugh out of Hanbin every now and then.

  


He tells him they don’t have to talk now, but that they will have to. Soon. Because what he’s doing isn’t healthy, and they can’t accommodate him. He tells him they’re sorry they hadn’t noticed he was going through a rough patch alone, but that he doesn’t have to be anymore. He tells him they’ll be better friends, and better for each other.

  


His eyes are dry when he opens the door, but there’s warmth in them as he cuddles their maknae in the hallway. Chanwoo cries, but Hanbin promises not to tell.

  


  


  


  


  


  


It takes them two days to have what they will fondly call ‘the talk’ later on. Those two days have been filled with silence, which seemed to unnatural for them that everyone in the company knew there was something going on. They never were a quiet bunch, even when they weren’t putting on a face for the cameras.

  


The talk happens in the dance practice room. Hanbin is sitting a few meters away from the bleach stain that still cover the right corner of their room. There had been a few questions about it, but he never let on he knew what happened.

  


Jinhwan doesn’t let them out until they have all said everything they had on their mind. There are a few surprising confessions, a few less surprising remarks. Old wounds are reopened, talked about in depths. Apologies are made all around.

  


Everyone cries. At least a little.

  


Hanbin’s burden doesn’t ease up, but he doesn’t feel so alone carrying it anymore. Bobby talks to him alone once they returned to the dorms, trying to convince him to go see someone (a therapist, if he dares the word).

  


At first, he is opposed to it. There is just been such a social stigma around it, what if someone saw him there?

  


The older rapper looks him dead in the eye and told him that the scandal would be so much bigger and damaging if the public found out the extent he went to handle the pressure. Or if they found him dead, after-

  


Bobby hugs him fiercely. They spend the whole night reconnecting, a friendship as strong as theirs not easily shattered by time.

  


He washes the rest of his razorblades down the drain the day after. He’s not certain he’s never going to fall back into this, but he knows he’s willing to try.

  


He almost freaks out before dinner, almost goes out to buy new ones. He goes in Yunhyeong’s room to bother him instead.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Not everything is perfect. Going to see that therapist is hard. It’s hard to go there, it’s hard to talk to her, and it’s hard after.

  


He likes it, because it's really fucking worth it.

  


He’s doing better, overall. There are less instances of him going ‘blank’ (she called it dissociation), he still thinks about buying new blades sometimes but never goes through with it. The rest of the members are there every step of the way. They’re all working through their own issues, but together.

  


He doesn’t ever want to let them go.

  


Their company is still shit, but they know how to make it work. His songs are getting more and more recognition, and their fanbase is growing every day.

  


He wouldn’t say he’s happy, but he could compromise on content.

  


It’s good enough.


End file.
